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But voices interrupted that sensation, and my ears perked up.
“The last fucking thing we need is to give that bitch Beck another excuse to come after us, Sadie, and your obsession with these fucking priests will come back on all of us. Hard.” Jasper’s voice was low and angry. I’d never heard him speak to Sadie like that before.
She laughed a dry and humorless sound. “Have I ever let you down, Jasper?”
“I didn’t pull the fucking trigger,” he growled, his anger palpable. Scary. He sucked in several deep breaths, and when he spoke next, his words were more restrained.
“It doesn’t matter who did what. What matters is that between Beck’s father and Mueller, the bitch will be up our asses until the day we die.”
That bitch was definitely Jamie’s partner, Beck. But Mueller? Pull the trigger? Did that mean…no, it couldn’t and even if it did, that was not the kind of shit I wanted to know about.
“We have to take care of her, Jas.” Sadie’s voice was calm but insistent.
“Fuck that shit, one dead Fed is one too many on our books Sadie. They’ll tear this fucking town apart to find her killer.”
“Only if they find her body,” Sadie shot back quickly. Too quickly if you asked me. “We’d have to be more careful this time.”
Jasper let out a bitter laugh. “That makes it sound like we were careful the first time when it was a goddamn shit show.”
Sadie sighed. “That’s why we must ensure Beck’s body is never found.”
“No,” Jasper said again, his tone dark. Determined.
“What I’d still like to know,” Sadie said, her voice filled with something like pride mixed with amusement, “is how Bonnie found out? The girl didn’t have the brains to figure it out on her own, so the question is how? How, Jas?”
“I don’t fucking know, Ma, but if you’re suggesting what I think you are, forget it. Cal wouldn’t sell us out, not for anything.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but for Cal’s sake, I was glad Jasper refused to believe it.
“If he was gonna do it, there wouldn’t have been so much fucking tension between him and Bonnie.”
“Well she found out some way and until we know how, it’s a loose end. I hate loose ends, Jasper.”
Those words were ominous as hell, and I took a step back away from the doors and picked up Ava.
That was too much information and none of it I wanted or needed to know. Hell, just knowing that information put me in danger, which meant it could put Molly in danger. If I ever fucking find her.
I changed the little girl and put her to bed, pacing the length of Cal’s living room in between phone calls, replaying the conversation over and over in my head.
Should I share this information with Jamie? Yes. If I did, would he arrest Sadie and Jasper? He’d have to, right? Bonnie talking to Mueller would definitely give them motive to kill her, but why kill Mueller? Because he was a witness? My mind raced with possibilities but none of them equaled Bonnie and Mueller dead.
“Listen to me. I sound like a bitch who definitely binge watches too many true crime dramas.”
I did watch a lot of crime shows, but who knew how useful they would end up being in my everyday life?
Still, it was a lot to think about. This was information Jamie needed to know, but was I really that girl? The one who sells out her friends for really good cock?
Was I? Are they even my friends?
No. Jamie wasn’t just a good fuck. He wasn’t just a really good fuck, either. He was my friend. My best friend, actually, and this trigger pulling information would be helpful to him. Still, it would also hurt the Ashbys and they had done so much for me.
Fuck. Fuckity-fuck.
You’re not that kind of family.
I hadn’t stopped thinking about those words Sadie said to Terry because they made me wonder what kind of family I was. I’d barely known these people for over a year and Terry and Emmett grew up with them, which meant I was no kind of family.
Which meant I wasn’t safe from shifting winds and changing loyalties.
I wasn’t safe here at all.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Jameson
Sitting across from the Nevada Assistant Director in Charge of the FBI early as hell in the morning made me feel like me and my friends had been called to the Principal’s office.
The ADIC, Sam Shiner, cut an imposing figure with his salt-and-pepper mustache and twenty-year-old fashion sense. His plain white dress shirt and leather strap watch suggested an unspoken despair, while the faded strip on his left finger revealed a man worn down by too many long nights.
“How in the fuck did you three find out about Richie?” His question seemed to be more amused than worried, which meant maybe he wasn’t dirty.
